The Abyss of Shadows
by GeemSuccjin
Summary: A girl who's sent on a quest by her father. The blind boy with a mysterious past who travels with her. What do the Fates have in store for these two? OCxOC [On hiatus/possibly discontinued]
1. What, A Trip?

Synopsis: This story is set in a Victorian Era Percy Jackson AU mixed with modern elements, where, in addition to Greek mythology, there are also witches! OCxOC, so the only concept that I'm using from Percy Jackson is the Greek mythology aspect.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Percy Jackson series. All credit belongs to Rick Riordan.

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at an OCxOC fanfic - or any real fanfic in general - so please be nice~! I have no idea how this will turn out, to be completely honest. I don't know if I'll even finish this story, as I have no storyboard written out and I don't really know where I want this to go. Not to mention I'm in high school and the days get rather busy (although I'm sure college is much worse, haha). So thanks for giving this fanfic a try! Please try to be nice in reviews as I don't have much experience in writing, although if it's so terrible that you think I deserve a flame feel free to drop one. I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

"I suppose this will have to do." Fifteen-year-old Maeve spoke, studying herself in the mirror. She'd hurriedly applied dark eyeliner to make the electric blue of her eyes pop. Her grey-black hair had also been curled. "I don't have time for anything fancy, at any rate."

"Maybe if your father had announced his visit earlier, we'd have more time to prepare," Canale (who was also fifteen years of age) grumbled from somewhere in her room.

"I believe that's the most you've said all week."

Canale didn't respond. Maeve heard the _tap-tap-tapping_ of his cane as he made his way to her restroom. She saw that he had changed the blindfold that he wore around his eyes. It used to be a dark grey cloth, now it was white.

"The white one suits you better," Maeve noted.

"Yeah? Well, I can't tell the difference anyways."

"Oh, was I being too insensitive?" she teased.

Canale leaned against the doorframe and held out his hand. In it was a bowtie.

"Can you make yourself useful and help me tie this? I can't see if I'm making it crooked."

Maeve complied.

"Can't you take off your blindfold for once?"

"No. And it doesn't matter...I can't see anything either way."

She snorted. "Well maybe _I_ want to see your eyes."

At this, Canale tensed.

"What's the matter? Afraid your eyes aren't pretty enough for the rest of your face? Because you've _seen_ them before?" Maeve pried.

"You don't feel any remorse, do you? I told you, I was born blind."

Maeve didn't get to respond. The doorbell rang right at the moment.

She walked down the stairs, dragging Canale with her.

Maeve opened the door and curtsied immediately.

"Hello, Father."

Zeus stood in the doorway, a hulking seven feet tall. His blazing yellow aura was accompanied by the occasional spark of lightning from his Master Bolt.

"Maeve." Zeus spoke with a business-like authority. "I need you to go to Paris."

.

.

.

"Why?" Canale spoke.

"None of your business, boy," Zeus thundered. "You won't be going on this quest. My daughter has better things to do than look after the likes of you."

Canale face betrayed no emotion, but Maeve could tell her father's words had struck a chord. She could talk to him about this later, but Zeus was going to have to leave first. Maeve would have to appease him as quickly as possible.

"What is this quest for?"

"Not so many questions! You'll find what you seek when you reach Hades," Zeus replied, more calmly than before.

"Yes, Father. I will go to Paris."

"Good," he said, and proceeded to depart with a loud clap of thunder.

The first thing Canale said when Maeve closed the door was, "You're not going alone."

"Yes, I am. It's not safe. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be looking for," Maeve snapped back.

"So you're agreeing with your father, then? You just think I'm someone useless who always needs to be taken care of, don't you?"

"No. I don't not want you to go because of _my_ father. But I'd rather you not meet up with _your_ father."

Canale smirked, but Maeve could tell his arrogance was fake. No matter how cold he tried to act, Maeve knew Hades had always been a touchy subject for Canale. "You know I have no intention of hiding from him. It's his fault I was even born. Besides, my father abandoned me. Hades was always cold, indifferent, especially when it came to matters concerning his blind, useless son. He couldn't care less whether or not I appear at his doorstep."

Maeve sighed. _'This is the only way to protect him.'_

"You were right before, then. I don't want you to go because I don't have the will nor the means to look after you the entire time."

She left him standing there and headed off to her room. _'He can find his own way back to his quarters,'_ she thought to herself, trying to convince herself to be more angry. _'What right does he have to interfere with my business anyway?'_

 _'He's the son of Hades, for Zeus' sake! Arguably the most dangerous of any Olympian. And we all know he doesn't quite get along well with his father...'_ Maeve reminded herself, just as she was falling asleep.

.

.

.

The next morning, Maeve got up intending to make tea, only to find Canale collapsed, hunched, on the bottom of the stairs. She knelt down and shook him gently, just enough to wake him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't find my way back," he grumbled pointedly. "The mansion's considerably big, you know."

Maeve almost felt bad. _Almost._

"Sorry," she responded, not sounding very apologetic.

Canale rubbed his face in his hands. "Are you?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely ashamed," Maeve picked up his cane and handed it to him. "Now let's go have some tea, shall we?"

.

.

.

Maeve sat, silently observing Canale as he drank his tea, surprised at the ease with which his slender fingers found their way to the handle of the mug. She affectionately noted that Canale was left handed, so in his grip, the Starbucks logo on his teacup was facing her. Aside from this, Maeve didn't know many other facts about him.

They'd been living in a recently abandoned mansion together for over a month, but she still didn't know anything about his past. Maeve knew a month and a half wasn't that long of a time, and she really didn't want to pry, but her curiosity got the best of her anyways.

"Canale..." she started.

He didn't respond, but tilted his head to let her know he was listening.

"Who is your mother?"

What happened next was, Maeve supposed, entirely her fault. Canale dropped his teacup, which shattered, and the tea ended up spilling towards her, soaking her dress.

Maeve stood up, apologized genuinely this time, and went to change her outfit.

.

.

.

When Maeve got back to the kitchen, she found Canale at the sink washing the teacups.

The sunlight from the window cast a light across the right half of his face, which was tilted toward the sink. The fingers of his left hand - _'pianist hands,'_ Maeve thought randomly - danced around the edge of the cloth, while he gripped the bowl with his right.

She slowly approached him, careful to be as quiet as she could. Then, loudly, she offered, "I'll help."

Canale just shook his head in response. "Your shoes make a clicking sound when you walk," he smirked, all traces of his previous shock gone. "They make your presence obvious to anyone who has ears. And you can't help, because I'm going to treat you as a burden to see how you like it."

"So you want to sleep on the stairs again? I'll bet it was comfortable."

"I'll have you know, it was better than sleeping in a graveyard for over half a year," Canale muttered. He quickly caught himself and clamped his mouth shut, not meaning to say what had just slipped out.

But Maeve had heard it, whether it was said purposefully or not.

She decided she was going to investigate the boy's past.

 _'The witch would know,'_ a voice spoke in her head, jolting her out of her thoughts. It sounded oddly like Hades. And somehow, Maeve understood who she needed to ask.

.

.

.

That night, Maeve put on her cloak and snuck out to the nearest inn.

"May I see your fortune teller, please?" she asked the bartender, a man with red hair and dark eyes. He pointed at a curtain behind him.

"Go in," he gestured.

"Thank you."

Maeve ducked past the curtains and found herself face to face - no, more like stomach to face - with an old woman with greying hair.

"Are you here for your fortune?" the old woman asked.

"No, I'm here for information," Maeve replied, setting a large bag of coins on the table.

The old woman licked her lips. "Ask away, miss."

"Canale Ravenholde. Do you happen to recognize this name?"

"Aye," the witch's cast her eye down. "'Tis a tragic story, miss. Would you truly like to hear it?"

"Of course. I need to."

 _'Well, not really, but I want to. I want to know what he's been through.'_

"Do you know what happens when you exchange something with a witch, miss?"

"Yes. You lose it forever," Maeve said.

"Keep that in mind while I tell you this story."

Maeve nodded.

"Well, I did not know the boy very well myself, but I knew his mother. She raised him all by herself in this very town. She died from a minotaur attack though, when the boy was only ten or so years of age. The boy spent many days at his mother's grave, not eating, sleeping on her tombstone. A witch appeared after some time, hoping to make a deal with the boy. She offered him great power, perhaps even enough to bring back his mother, in exchange for his sight. So the boy, he said yes. But he was tricked. She merely smiled. Told him that he already had great power, although not enough to do what he wanted. No one did. Even he, a son of Hades, could never bring back his mother. Pity he lost his eyes too, they were the most beautiful shade of orange."

Then, the witch conjured an image of Canale, a few years younger, fiery eyes sightless, with a single red tear trickling down his cheek.

"This is the boy's story. Since then, he's blamed Hades for not watching over his mother at all, although he claimed to love her. This boy, Canale, loved his mother so much that he would've given up his own life to bring his mother back. The only reason he kept on living like that was because he believed his mother's efforts would have been wasted if he'd died. And he didn't die. But his soul did."

Maeve couldn't remember the last time she'd exhaled. She let out the breath she had seemingly been holding for ages, feeling an anger burn inside her - towards the witch who tricked Canale, towards Hades, towards Zeus - towards the dangerous world she lived in.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the witch who tricked him was punished by Hades himself. Hades still looks after the boy, no matter what he thinks."

Maeve was speechless. She'd suspected that Canale hadn't been born blind, but she hadn't expected him to have such a backstory. No wonder he'd never wanted to talk about it.

 _'Perhaps going to Paris will make him stronger after all,'_ Maeve mused. _'He needs to open up before he puts too much pressure on himself.'_

After thanking the old woman, she bid her goodbyes to the staff of the inn and headed back to the mansion.

.

.

.

Maeve awoke the next morning intending to confront Canale. What she didn't expect was for him to already be at her bedside, sleeping.

She got up and gently shook him awake.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"You were having a nightmare," he mumbled in reply.

"Really? I don't remember anything about it."

"I could hear you screaming from my room, so I made my way here to check on you."

Maeve shook her head. "You need to actually wake up in your own bed for once..."

"I know, you're grateful," Canale smirked.

She sat down next to him, pursed her lips.

"You could say that. And another thing - I should've mentioned this ages ago - I found one of the pendants you were looking for in my room."

"The green jade one?"

"Ah, so you _have_ seen colors."

Canale's cheeks flushed, but he didn't respond.

"Don't worry, I already know," Maeve assured him. "You don't have to retell anything."

"How?" he asked, face softening.

"A witch who once knew your mother."

At the mention of his mother, Canale's face once again turned rigid.

"I wanted to tell you, I really did. I wanted to drop hints. But I couldn't handle retelling it. I'm sorry-" his voice broke.

"...Canale," Maeve ventured cautiously, turning over and supporting herself with her arms so that she was on top of him but not touching him.

He nodded, clearly trying to compose himself.

"...I can't pretend to know what it feels like. Saying sorry is so empty, so I won't do it. Just...I don't know if I should be saying this, but...life is what you make of it." Her voice ended in a faint whisper.

A tear trickled down through his blindfold from the corner of his right eye.

"Sorry. I'm not very good at...comforting people," Maeve admitted. "But I promise I do mean everything I say."

"Oh, I have no doubt you do," Canale spoke softly. He wiped the tear with his sleeve and cast his eyes downward.

Maeve wanted to hold him, wanted to run her hands through his messy silver waves, wanted to tug the blindfold off his eyes and melt into his fiery gaze.

 _'"They were the most beautiful shade of orange."'_ The fortune teller's words echoed in her mind.

"Canale...can I see your eyes?"

.

.

.

"They're a little...unsettling," Canale whispered. "You wouldn't want to see."

"But I do."

He tentatively lifted the blindfold to reveal...his closed eyes. They flickered open after a moment.

Maeve couldn't find the right words to describe them. They were obviously unseeing and couldn't focus, but the irises were as orange as the sunset. They hadn't dulled at all.

His eyes were, most simply described, beautiful. The orange strangely contrasted with his wavy grey hair, but not in a bad way. If Maeve thought his face was perfect before, she could think again. She could stare at him for eternity.

Maeve could tell Canale was getting uncomfortable not knowing her reaction, so she took the blindfold from him.

"You won't be needing this anymore," she teased, tossing it straight into a nearby trash can.

Canale directed a skeptical look in her direction.

"I'm serious," Maeve said, pulling him up. Then, she wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.

"I have one more thing to tell you," Maeve leaned in, whispering into his ear. " _We_ are going to Paris tonight."

* * *

Author's Note: Please R&R! Also just a tidbit, not that anyone cares, but I'm not the left handed one. My best friend is, though.

* * *

Miscellaneous Good Websites:

drawingsformygrandchildren.c0m

instagram.c0m/drawings_for_my_grandchildren


	2. The Long Haul

AU: Thanks so much for sticking with me! I hope future chapters will get better for you guys

* * *

"I know," Canale told her.

"How?" Maeve asked, eyebrows raised. "I was going to surprise you."

"You were holding them last night while you were sleeping, that's all," he shrugged. "I took them away from you but couldn't read them, though I suspected they were something of the sort."

"…Well?" Maeve prompted, indignant. "What are you waiting for? Go pack your things."

Canale tried his best to glare at her. It didn't work.

"I was just teasing. I'll help," she sighed jokingly.

######

Maeve studied Canale's room, pursing her lips.

"Do we even need to pack any of our things?" she asked, reconsidering. All that was in there was a bed and some clothing. They hadn't been living in the abandoned mansion for long though, anyways, so a bare room was to be expected.

"Not if you still have that magic wallet from Apollo," Canale muttered. "But knowing you, you probably lost it already."

"Right. It should be in my room," Maeve exclaimed, completely ignoring the last half of what Canale said (much to the benefit of his health).

Canale sighed, slowly following the sound of her footsteps back to her room.

######

Twelve hours later, Maeve and Canale were deposited by a carriage at the London Train Station. Maeve was carrying only a small stuffed panda she usually had by her bedside. Apollo's magic wallet, which could generate any amount of money for the user, lay hidden beneath her short skirt, over which she'd thrown a wool coat.

The air was chilly, making her shiver.

 _'It would've been worse if I hadn't worn knee-high stockings and boots,'_ Maeve thought.

Her breath created a hardly-visible fog in the night sky.

"Here," Canale said quietly, almost as if embarrassed. He handed her his cloak.

"Thank you."

Maeve threw the cloak over her shoulders. Canale said nothing.

"The train should be coming soon," she supplied helpfully.

He nodded.

"What are you thinking about?" Maeve asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"I thought about what you said…" He didn't continue.

Maeve coughed.

"What you said about me. Being a hindrance," Canale finished.

Maeve mentally berated herself for saying such a thing. Canale seemed so stoic at times, it was hard to imagine that every little thing she said to him stuck.

"You know I didn't mean it. I only wanted for you to not get involved with this. It really has nothing to do with you-"

"Be honest," he interrupted. "Would you have said the same thing if I could see?"

Maeve was saved from replying by the sound of the train pulling into the station, bells and all.

Before they got on the train, Maeve slid her hand into Canale's.

"No, I wouldn't have. But I would have wanted you to come either way."

######

That night, Maeve dreamed about the stars. She dreamed of getting so close to one that she was consumed by its fire. It gave her a sense of both numbing coolness and searing flames. Movement was impossible. The pain was so acute that she could barely hear her own screams...

Maeve woke with a start. There were beads of sweat on her skin.

Beside her, Canale stirred. His right arm had somehow ended up slung over Maeve's shoulder.

"Hmm? Dreams again?" he murmured.

"You're cute when you're asleep," Maeve replied, not answering.

All of a sudden, Canale noticed the position of his arm. He quickly pulled it back.

"S-sorry! I swear, I didn't mean for-"

Maeve laughed, cutting him off.

"Don't worry," she told him. "I don't mind."

She swore she saw a blush flush across his porcelain pale skin at that moment.

"Would you like to explore the train?" Maeve asked, a hint of mischief in her voice.

Canale smiled.

"But of course."

With her stuffed panda in one hand and Canale's wrist in the other, Maeve slid open the compartment door and began walking toward the back of the train.

She opened the back door of the car and found herself in the open air.

Noticing a ladder behind her, Maeve slung her stuffed panda on her back using two self-made shoulder straps and began to climb.

"Canale," she called. "Can you give me a boost?"

He did as told, feeling for a good handrest and pushing up.

"Oh, careful!" Maeve giggled sitting at the edge of the train's roof. "This skirt isn't all that long, you know."

She could almost feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

"Come up with me," Maeve called down. "I'm not going to look at anything until you do, I promise."

"Fine," Canale responded. To himself, he whispered, "Ladders aren't that scary, right?"

Feeling for each handrest and footrest, Canale made it up the ladder in a surprisingly short amount of time. Maeve helped pull him up, and he kneeled next to her.

"Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for," Maeve hummed.

She turned to look at the landscape from their vantage point.

Maeve gasped.

"It's...breathtaking."

True enough, the sky looked like an endless expanse of stars, cold but beckoning at the same time. The full moon shone brightly, emitting a yellow-white glow. The scene was beautiful enough to fall asleep under, and perhaps never wake up.

Canale's face looked almost wistful.

"Can you...describe it?"

Maeve did, making sure not to leave out a single detail. Canale closed his eyes.

"You're right. It seems enchanting. Although..." he paused.

"Yes?" Maeve prompted.

"I would trade being able to look at such a scene for the rest of my life," Canale continued, opening his eyes. The orange of his irises seemed to brun under the moonlight. "For just one moment of looking at you."

Maeve's cheeks burned.

"Then would you," she started hesitatingly. "Would you...like to _'see'_?"

Canale didn't answer.

Maeve didn't need one. She gently took his hands in hers and guided them to her face. She relished in his light touch as he shyly traced each inch of her cheek, he nose, her closed eyelids.

After a while, Canale brought his hands back to his lap and looked down in their direction.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Maeve scooted so that she was knelt behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Anything for you."

######

The next morning, Maeve and Canale woke up back in their compartment, with no hint as to what had occurred last night except their subtly laced-together fingers.

There was a knock on the compartment door, accompanied by the rumbling of cart wheels. Canale quickly snatched his hand away, face flushing.

"Breakfast?" came the voice of a cheery woman.

"Yes, please," Maeve replied, just as sweetly. "Two oatmeals, the ones on the far left."

The woman handed her two bowls and trilled, "Have a nice day!"

"Thank you," Maeve and Canale said together.

Maeve handed Canale a bowl.

"Keep it," he responded softly. Grabbing his cane, he said, "I'm heading out."

######

Maeve found Canale sitting outside, with his back to the train car.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, sitting next to him.

"I'm fine," he said forcefully. "Worry about yourself. Please."

Maeve was silent for a moment.

Then she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean you should stay away."

"Why?"

"You don't want to get involved with me," Canale whispered. His orange eyes burned.

Maeve felt anger begin to stir. Whatever had happened to last night?

"You're right. Maybe I won't," she snapped, walking back in and slamming the door shut.

That afternoon, Maeve was sitting in the train car trying to fall asleep when Canale slid the door open again. She jumped a little, giving him a hint to her location.

"Sorry," he said shortly, feeling for a seat across the table from her.

Maeve didn't answer, pretending to be asleep.

Canale whispered, "Please...I just..."

 _'Do not be so quick to judge my son. When he feels strong emotions, like love, his power becomes harder to control. It takes a lot of energy and is extremely dangerous. Especially if he can't see. It's nigh impossible for him,'_ she heard Hades' voice finish in her head. _'He only wants to distance himself from you so you don't get hurt.'_

 _'How come Canale always manages to make me feel so guilty?'_ Maeve thought. She reached over and took the boy's hand in hers, catching him by surprise.

"I understand," she soothed. "Shh."

"No, you don't."

Maeve moved across to the other side of the table, sitting close enough to Canale to feel his body heat.

"I'm the one who should be sorry then," Maeve whispered into his ear. "Because I got angry with you without understanding."

A tiny corner of Canale's mouth quirked upward, just for a second.

"Yes, you tend to do that a lot, don't you?" he whispered back.

* * *

AU: Review please

I take suggestions into consideration too

* * *

Sig:

Pie is good :)

Flour cakes are great :3

I like muffins too :D


	3. The Next Step

AU: Huge thanks to VagantemAnima for the review

I'll take everything you said to heart, don't worry, I hope you enjoy it

* * *

"It was easier to control last night," Canale admitted. "Because the air was chilly."

He and Maeve sat facing each other, cross-legged, knees barely brushing.

"That does make sense," Maeve mused, fingering a strand of her curly grey-black hair. Guilt flooded her as she noticed that Canale's orange eyes, which were normally as soft as the sunset, had become unusually hard. Her presence was taking a toll on him.

"You don't have to do this," Maeve blurted.

"Do what?" Canale cast his gaze downward and began tracing his finger along the ridges of the carpet.

"You don't have to come. You don't have to stay with me. You can go back."

"You know that's not an option," he replied, looking back up in her direction.

"Why not?"

"I didn't come because I had to. I came because I wanted to."

Maeve wanted so badly to hug him at the moment, but she restrained herself.

"And..." Canale looked like he was working up the courage to say something.

"And?"

"I just wanted to let you know," he continued, a little embarrassed. "I'll work on controlling my elemental power..." Canale trailed off again, then added, "For you."

"That won't be necessary," Maeve responded. "I have an idea..."

######

After getting off the train that evening, Maeve and Canale went on a quick trip to an inn near the station. They were herded into a small tent after Maeve asked to see their fortune teller. The tent was dark and filled with cobwebs, giving it a creepy aura. There was an old woman seated at a round table with a glowing green orb on it. She had billowing white hair and kind blue eyes.

"Twenty five cents per fortune told," the old woman chanted.

Maeve threw the old woman a bag of coins.

"Can you perform some magic for us?"

All of a sudden, Maeve's intentions became clear to Canale. His eyes widened.

"Hmm," the old lady began. "Perhaps. Depends on what it is you require. Speak now."

Maeve gestured to Canale.

"His eyesight was taken by a witch some time ago in exchange for an elemental power. Can you reverse the change somehow?"

The witch shook her head. "You must remember, dear, that any deal made with a witch is completely irreversible. What was lost can never again be gained. However, there is a way for me to take the boy's elemental power and exchange it with another power, if he so desires."

Maeve nudged Canale, but the boy seemed to be deep in thought.

"What else is there," he asked the woman, "that is less affected by strong emotions?"

The witch took a long, hard glance at the two standing before her. Her eye twinkled, but she didn't say anything. The exact problem at hand was understood.

"If that is the only characteristic you require, then it's not necessary for a change to be performed."

Maeve cut in.

"And why is that?"

"Because," the witch smiled. "Emotions won't affect the boy's powers at all if he becomes a full elemental. In fact, being Hades' son, it should be easy to transfer the other four elemental powers into him. He won't even need to give anything up in return."

Canale was considering it, Maeve could tell. Heck, she would've been considering it too, if she were him.

"Are there any drawbacks?" Canale asked.

"It will make you extremely fatigued within the first few weeks," the witch warned. "Chronic migraines would also be a symptom during those weeks, which would be especially bad in your case."

It was obvious what she meant. Migraines would be incredibly damaging to both Canale's sense of direction and ability to balance.

But...

"I'll do it anyway," he announced, voice wavering slightly.

The witch nodded.

"As you wish," she smiled, bowing. "Come here, child."

Canale started toward the sound of her voice. She placed a hand on his chest, indicating that he was close enough.

"Hold our your hand," the witch commanded.

Canale did as bid. Maeve watched in fascination as the witch placed her palm on top of his. Then, a mysterious power of some sort seemed to course through him. At first, it was sea blue and pulsed like waves throughout his body.

 _'Water,'_ Maeve thought.

Then, the blue became green. Large shoots of what seemed like grass and vine wound around Canale, and a wind seemed to rustle through the air.

 _'Earth.'_

The green morphed into yellow. A bright, blinding light blazed around Canale's body, more brilliant than the sun.

 _'Light.'_

Yellow light was replaced by a void, a blurry combination of dark purple and black.

 _'Dark.'_ The final one.

After the dark void slowly dissipated, Canale collapsed in a heap on the ground.

The witch returned to her chair and told Maeve, "He'll wake up soon. His body needs to rest a bit after absorbing so much power."

Maeve nodded, speechless after what she had just witnessed. It was too incredible to be described.

"Meanwhile, you can sit here." The witch gestured to a chair across the table from her. Maeve did as told.

The witch began, "I know this boy."

Maeve wasn't too surprised. "What do you know about him?"

"His mother was murdered in a minotaur attack, correct?"

"I believe so."

"Well, then you are wrong," the witch replied, beaming.

"How so?"

"You know this boy was cursed by another witch, yes? Do you know who that witch was? What relation she had with him?"

"I've never asked," Maeve admitted. "It seemed like an intrusion of privacy, and I didn't find it all that important to begin with."

"The witch who cursed him was his own mother. She staged her own death, for she had never loved the son she bore with Hades. His mother had always thought he was a devil, with his black hair and fiery eyes. But the boy loved her nonetheless, as she was all he had. The reason she gave him fire elemental powers, and not any other element, was because she wanted him to destroy himself, to burn himself in hell. When Hades found out her deed, he made it so that her own life was taken in return for taking away the happiness of their son."

Maeve knew that bringing someone back from the dead was impossible, yet she had for a while wondered why Hades had not allowed Canale to visit his mother in the Underworld. Hades had been protecting him.

The witch wasn't finished talking to her, though.

"Although, to me, it seems that the boy found happiness again. This time, in someone who doesn't see only the bad in him." She winked at Maeve, who blushed.

It was then that Canale began to stir.

"When you said migraines, I didn't think they would be this bad," he cursed, groaning.

Maeve knelt down at his side, preventing him from trying to get up.

"Keep lying down for a bit. How bad is it?"

"...It's like my head is being split open...over and over again."

"Will you two be able to get back safely?" the witch asked, concern in her eyes.

Maeve nodded.

"He isn't the only demigod here," she laughed, gesturing at Canale. Then, she summoned a windstorm right in the middle of the tent, just enough to carry life both her and Canale up into the air.

The old woman put her hands on her hips.

"Daughter of Zeus. I should've known," she chuckled. "Those eyes."

Maeve let the wind slowly abide until she and Canale were both safely on the ground.

"Thank you for your help," she told the old woman.

"You're welcome."

She then helped Canale get up and out the door. They couldn't exactly ride the wind inside the inn, after all. Once they were outside the inn, Canale winced.

"Sorry," he said. "I can feel it getting better though."

"It's okay. I haven't taken you storm-riding yet, anyways," Maeve grinned. "You're going to love it."

* * *

Sig:

Pie is good :)

Flour cakes are great :3

I like muffins too :D


	4. A Series of Mostly Fortunate Events

AU: Please R&R. That would be extremely nice. I'll even give you cookies (lol jk but do it anyway)

By the way there is no regular update schedule for this story. I update whenever I feel like it, usually once or twice a week

 **I UPDATED THE COVER IMAGE OF THE STORY TOO. Credits go to a video game called Fairy Fencer F. IT'S HOW I IMAGINE THE CHARACTERS TO BE LIKE (BUT WITH DIFFERENT HAIR/EYE COLORS, OF COURSE)**

* * *

"No, you're not," came a distinct raspy voice from behind. "You're not even going to be able to experience it."

Maeve groaned, whipping around. She'd been hoping never to hear that voice again. Judging by Canale's expression, he knew who the voice belonged to as well.

"Medusa."

One of the inn's waitresses, dressed in a maid's uniform, stood at the entrance of the inn. Her eyes were covered by a pair of sunglasses. There was a turban over her hair.

"Hello, my dears," Medusa purred. "How kind of you to remember me. Although the last time I saw each of you, you were alone. How in the world did you meet up?" She gave them a look of fake curiosity.

"Hey, if you want to join us so badly, for starters, maybe avoid trying to turn someone into stone next time. Or, at least, trying to," Canale smirked.

Medusa hissed. That was obviously a sore spot of hers.

"I thought you were faking not being able to see. But no matter. There are other ways to die by my hand, you know."

Maeve joined in.

"Ha, well I sure do prefer dying over having to look at you," she pursed her lips. "I take that back, actually. I'm probably going to die from looking at you any longer."

Medusa began to finger her turban, smiling wickedly.

"If I were a defenseless little girl in your position, I wouldn't be saying that," she cackled. "Did you honestly think two children of the Big Three traveling together would go unnoticed by monsters? The smell is enough to be scented from across the globe."

Maeve knew Medusa was trying to get her to drop her guard so she could strike. She wasn't going to let that happen.

"Of course not," Maeve replied, alert as ever. "But I know that you happen to be defeat-able, just like other monsters."

Medusa then angrily whipped off her turban just as Maeve shut her eyes. But she was far from defenseless. In fact, she had a few tricks up her sleeve. Literally.

Whipping out a knife with each hand, she took aim directly in front of her and threw both. Medusa howled in pain, and then all was still. Maeve didn't dare open her eyes, at least not yet. Complete silence greeted her ears for over a minute.

Then, opening one eye, Maeve took in the scene. One of her knives had pierced Medusa in the shoulder, but that wouldn't have been enough to kill. Her other knife, however, had completely sliced Medusa's head off her body.

 _'Lucky shot,'_ Maeve thought to herself. _'If only I had been so lucky last time.'_

Last time, Medusa had gotten away from Maeve and her satyr best friend, the one who had found her and shown Maeve her true nature as a demigod. But in the process, she had turned that satyr, Basil, into a stone statue. Maeve would never forgive her for that.

 _'A life in exchange for a life,'_ she thought. _'Serves her right.'_

"So um, I feel completely clear-headed now," Canale broke Maeve's train of thought. "I can take you shadow-traveling, if you'd like."

Maeve nodded. "Sure. I've always wanted to shadow-travel."

"But," Canale added, slightly embarrassed. "I haven't shadow-traveled since, um, you know."

"Don't you have to be able to picture the destination in your head?" Maeve said, comprehension dawning.

"Yeah. But I've visited the Underworld as a kid, and I remember what it looks like. Kind of hard to forget. I was thinking I could get us straight there, right now."

"That's a great idea. Let's do that."

"Okay. But um, if you end up dead, don't blame me."

######

Maeve's sense of balance had been completely distorted. She staggered around, trying to regain her sense of direction, for about five minutes while Canale stood patiently waiting.

After looking around, trying to focus her eyes, Maeve realized that they were at the entrance of a cave.

"Is this the Underworld?" she asked, mind still groggy.

"Nope," Canale replied, "This is just the entrance."

Maeve got up, clutching at her head.

"How are you perfectly fine after all that?"

Canale shrugged.

"Experience."

"Yeah, well, Mr. Experience. Don't ever do that again."

Canale laughed, feeling along the walls of the cave as he moved forward.

"As you wish."

Maeve followed him.

"What are we looking for?"

"There should be a crack in the wall somewhere deeper in the cave. We're going to have to walk a bit though."

"Don't use your hands," Maeve interrupted. "Parts of the wall are really sharp."

"I don't feel like using my cane," he responded innocently.

Maeve laughed, taking his hand.

"Sure."

"That's not what I wanted either," the boy replied, looking away from her.

"Right."

They didn't say anything more until Maeve spotted a large crack splitting the rock. She gently laid Canale's hand on top of it.

"This must be it, right?"

"I don't know, do you spot any other large cracks?" Canale shot back sarcastically.

Maeve decided to ignore him, instead asking, "Now what do we do?"

Canale wrenched his hand out of hers, slowly heading straight into the wall. For a moment, he seemed to meld in, and then disappeared to the other side.

"Ah, I see," Maeve muttered to herself, before following suit.

The other side appeared to be, in all sense of the word, chaotic as hell. Which it kind of was.

Canale stood beside her, leaning back against the wall so he didn't lose his bearings.

Maeve struggled to find something to say, but was interrupted by a voice. Canale also appeared to be yanked out of his thoughts, jerking his head upward slightly.

"Hello, my darlings," Allecto, one of Hades' Furies, greeted. "Master sends his wishes to you. However, he would like you to know that he is very busy and won't be able to have an audience with you for at least another week. Meanwhile, he has booked you two a room at a nearby hotel aboveground. So you two should go."

She smiled viciously.

"Now."

All of a sudden, Maeve and Canale were ripped from the Underworld and thrown into a hotel lobby. Judging by the extraordinarily fancy red carpeting, the lavish paintings of founders and sponsors hanging from the impeccably wallpapered walls, and the expensive crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling, it had to be one of the best, if not _the_ best, hotel in the area.

"Well. That was a friendly welcome," Canale's voice was stone cold.

"At least we weren't harmed. Besides, a week to ourselves could be fun."

"Oh yeah. Having an encounter with my father's right hand man-er, woman-and living in a hotel with him paying our expenses? Sounds great."

Just then, Maeve noticed a colorful sign displayed in the center of the lobby, which read, "HOTEL BEING RENTED OUT FOR A BALL FRIDAY NIGHT. ALL HOTEL GUESTS MAY ATTEND FREE OF CHARGE."

"Hey," she tugged on Canale's sleeve. "There's going to be a ball here tomorrow night, free to hotel guests..."

"I can't," Canale replied quietly. "I haven't been around so many people in too long. It's quite nerve-wracking."

Maeve nodded.

"Let's check in now," she changed the subject. "It's not too late, after we do that we can explore the city."

######

"Here's the roof," Maeve panted.

"Finally," Canale laughed. "I counted at least fifteen sets of stairs." Maeve had been leading them up flight after flight of stairs, until finally they reached a ladder that led to a roof door. They'd climbed up and sat at the edge, feet dangling, overlooking the city.

"So many lights," Maeve murmured.

"I really wish I could see them. Just once," Canale sighed.

That's when the rain started.

"Let's go back down," Maeve grinned devilishly. "I love walking in the rain."

######

Maeve and Canale strode until they reached a park. By then, both were thoroughly soaked to the bone.

"Doesn't it make you feel so fresh?" Maeve exalted. "So pure?"

"How about _'wet'_ and _'miserable'_?"

Maeve pouted. "You're no fun."

Canale was silent for a while, then said suddenly, "Maeve, can I...tell you something?"

"Of course."

"I...I like you. And I thought this would be a good time to confess, but..." Noticing Maeve's lack of response, he shut his mouth, embarrassed.

For a short moment, Maeve flashed back to that one night. A similar confession. But what she hadn't known back then was that Hecate had been jealous of her witch mother for getting with Zeus and for her ability to charm people in general. Thus, she cast a spell that cursed not Maeve's mom herself (for what was done was done) but her descendants. Any who fell in love with that descendant would meet a pitiful end in exactly two weeks, unless the curse was broken. But the trick was, the confession had to be put into words. Otherwise nothing would happen.

The last time, it had been Basil. And he had met his demise exactly a week later through Medusa. But that time, even though he was her best friend, Maeve hadn't loved Basil back. With Canale though, it was a different story.

Maeve had to get away, to sort all of these thoughts rushing through in her head at a million miles per hour. To be alone.

Canale had a pained expression in his eyes.

"Sorry if that was too sudden."

Maeve didn't respond. Instead, she ran. The rain pounded against her skin, clouded her vision, stimulated her mind.

In a tiny part of her brain, she registered Canale whispering, "Please wait," registered the salty taste in her mouth from tears. But Maeve didn't look back.

######

 _Waking up and letting go,_  
 _To the sound of angels._  
 _Am I alive or just a ghost?_  
 _Haunted by my sorrows._  
 _Hope is slipping through my hands,_  
 _Gravity is taking hold._  
 _Said I'm not afraid, that I am brave enough._

 _-"Hold Me Now" by Red_

Maeve woke up in the middle of the forest, not remembering what had occurred after the events in the park last night. Upon seeing Canale in her peripheral vision, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, however, the memories washed back.

She remembered running all the way back to their hotel, then realizing, more clear-headed at that point, that Canale wouldn't be able to get back.

 _'It's not like anything was his fault,'_ Maeve remembered chiding herself, over and over.

And with that, she returned to the park, only to find that Canale had found a nearby tree to huddle under. He seemed to be unconscious though, presumably from a fever. Maeve had then taken him deeper into the woods, where she had fallen asleep in exhaustion.

She heard Canale cough.

 _'I'm so sorry,'_ Maeve wanted to say. But all she did was roll over to face him.

"Oh, so Sleeping Beauty is finally awake. Would you care to explain to me what happened last night?" he asked coldly. "If you didn't think I was good enough for you, then you should've just said so. No need to run."

Maeve rested her back against his knees. Then she started sobbing. She couldn't help it.

"Okay. Don't tell me. I don't care. But don't leave me here again. You know I can't find my way back, least of all without a cane."

 _'Oh yeah,'_ Maeve thought. _'I told him to leave that at the hotel. I said it'd be safe.'_

The guilt flooded over her again. She debated telling Canale about the curse, but knew it wasn't a good time. And she was determined to break the curse, possibly before anything bad happened. Before anyone found out.

Maeve took Canale's slender hand and pulled him up.

"Sorry," she whispered.

He didn't say anything in response.

######

Upon arrival at their room, Maeve was somewhat surprised to see two outfits hanging from the door. On one a note reading, _"For the Lady,"_ was attached, on the other, a note reading, _"For the Gentleman."_

Maeve inwardly groaned. There was no way Canale would even consider going to the ball that night, especially after what had happened. She took both from the door, trying to be quiet, but Canale still heard the doorknob's movement.

"What was that?" he asked. His voice was still cold.

Maeve handed the garments to him, then walked away, not wanting to see his reaction. To her surprise, though, Canale walked in after her and held the dress out. He had returned the tuxedo to its place hanging from the doorknob.

"It feels extravagant," Canale said, complete honesty in his expression. "You should wear it. I'd bet everything that you'd look beautiful."

Maeve took it from him, and without waiting for her response, he turned and headed toward the door, feeling along the wall for his cane and taking it. Then, Canale disappeared into the corridor.

Maeve wanted to cry all over again.

######

After trying on the dress, Maeve realized that Canale was right. The electric blue of the feathery fabric of the dress exactly matched her eyes, and the lower part of the gown was long and voluminous. She walked out, down the corridor, down the stairs, and took her place at the ball, just standing near the stairs.

######

The dancing and waltzing music was beginning to make Maeve sick. But her attention soon caught on Canale, who was coming down the stairs with one hand on the railing and his cane in the other. He had managed to dress himself appropriately in the tuxedo and blazer provided, complete with a bowtie and top hat. Maeve moved to intercept him as he reached the bottom of the stairs, counting.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"I'm going to dance with a few girls. Or is that not allowed?"

Maeve had to admit, almost any girl would be willing to dance with Canale based on looks alone, but she could tell that he was bluffing. She saw how tense Canale was. It was obvious. The knuckles on his hand, the one holding the cane especially, were white as paper.

"No," she whispered. "I won't let you."

Before Canale could reply, Maeve slid Canale's cane from his hand with a bit of force and propped it up against the stairs. His face immediately drained of all color.

"Don't do it-"

"Don't worry," Maeve leaned in. "I won't let go, I promise."

She slid her hands into his. Slowly, Maeve felt the tension ease itself from his body.

Just then, an older woman walked by, saying, "Oh hello, it's you again."

"Oh," Canale muttered, embarrassed. "Hi."

"I saw this boy while he was dressing into his suit. He told me he'd spent three hours on it before I offered to help. I knew it was for a girl right away!" the woman smiled.

Canale blushed.

Maeve laughed along, surprised. She decided to fake a little confusion.

"But I thought you said you came to dance with lots of other girls," she said innocently.

The woman gasped, looking between them.

"I was merely kidding," Canale reassured.

"Good," the woman smiled at them. "Well, see you two around. I'll be going."

"Come with me," Maeve ordered as soon as she was gone. She didn't wait for a response, instead heading toward the door of the hotel.

As soon as Maeve let go of his hand to push the door open, Canale immediately said, "We are not going outside."

Maeve ignored him, holding open the door with one heeled shoe while proceeding to drag Canale outside with her.

"I want to talk to you in private."

They strode on in silence for a while. Canale's eyes widened after figuring out where Maeve was taking him.

"Not the park."

"Yes, the park. We're going to have a continuation of our last conversation. Bear with me, please."

Canale sighed, then nodded. Maeve could feel him getting more and more tense, though.

"About what you said."

Canale winced.

"I just wanted to say that I return those feelings."

Canale stopped walking.

"Then why didn't you tell me that?" he asked coldly.

"I felt guilty about not telling you earlier. For waiting for you to tell me," Maeve finished lamely. _'If I had told you first, the curse wouldn't have even been activated. But I was scared. Selfish. Stupid.'_ But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that part of the reason.

"Okay," she announced after a while. "Let's go back. I intend to spend the rest of the night at this ball."

"At least you didn't run this time," Canale murmured.

"I promised I wouldn't let you go, didn't I?" Maeve squeezed his hand.

At that, Canale smiled for the first time since the part of last night they'd spent on the roof.

######

Once they returned to the ball, Maeve and Canale were greeted with many compliments from people who believed they were newly arriving. Guests would praise Maeve for her beauty, for how stunning she looked in her dress. They would also compliment Canale on his natural, otherworldly perfect features, on the exotic color of his eyes. Once they reached the stairs, Canale located the third step with relative ease, then sat down on it. Maeve seated herself on his lap.

"I would give anything to be able to look at you right now," Canale whispered.

"Speak for yourself," Maeve laughed, taking the ribboned top hat off his head and putting it over her own. "You've always been perfect, with or without fancy garments."

And in that moment, as was her luck, something unspeakable happened. Or rather, someone unspeakable showed up to the ball, barely bothering to disguise herself.

Hecate, Goddess of Magic.

"I'm going to get a drink," Maeve spoke carefully to Canale. "Do you mind if I leave for just a bit?"

Canale nodded, feeling around the staircase for his cane.

Maeve didn't stay to watch, rushing over to Hecate immediately.

"Hecate. Why are you here?"

"To visit you, of course," Hecate sneered, then added, "My dear."

"Well, this is good timing, because I want you to remove my curse."

"And why would I do that?" Hecate asked. Her velvet dress shimmered, showing card tricks and fireworks blazing across the fabric.

"It had nothing to do with me. It was my mother. Please, I beg of you, remove it and I promise that your children will have a place at Camp. You'll have a cabin, a statue, anything you wish for."

Hecate considered the offer.

"As you wish, darling. But you know, the curse isn't placed on you. The curse is placed on the one who falls in love with you. So," her eye glinted. "You're going to have to bring the boy over to me. I'll wait here."

Maeve sighed in defeat, heading back over to the stairs. She didn't want to involve Canale, but this was quite possibly the best, and only, way she could get the curse removed.

"I'm back," Maeve announced as she sat down next to Canale.

"What took you so long? I thought you left again," Canale teased.

"Oh shush," she replied, gently swatting at his hand. "I have something I need to tell you, right now." Maeve was surprised at how serious her voice sounded.

Canale directed his gaze towards her.

"Continue."

Maeve then explained about the curse, and why she didn't want to tell him before.

"But Hecate can remove it. She's here," Maeve added. "Come with me, please?"

"You should've said something before," Canale said, stoic. "I'll come though."

He offered her his hand. She took it, leading him to Hecate, who, true to her word, was standing in the exact spot Maeve had left her.

"Hmm, a son of Hades?" Hecate muttered. "Such pretty eyes."

Maeve nodded.

"And?"

"Oh yes," Hecate replied. She snapped a finger.

"There, curse removed. Wouldn't want Hades getting mad at me for the death of his precious son." Then she strode away.

"Hades wouldn't care," Canale whispered. But even he couldn't stop the glimmer of doubt that flickered accross his face.

"Hey," she told him. "Forget the ball. Let's go to our room, okay? We need to have a talk about your father."

######

"Your father really does love you, you know that," Maeve began as soon as Canale had seated himself on the edge of a bed, with no sign of the confliction he'd displayed just moments ago.

"Is that why he left me? Why he never bothered to visit? Why he never stopped my mother from hating me?"

"Just what could he have done to interfere?"

"He could have let me visit my mother," Canale replied. "I just wanted to tell her that I was sorry. For not being the perfect child she wanted me to be."

 _'Tell him,'_ Hades' voice sighed in Maeve's mind. _'I suppose he needs to find out what really happened eventually.'_

"The reason your father wouldn't let you visit...is because your mother was the one who took your sight," Maeve blurted. "She was a witch, right? She staged her own death and came back to take away your happiness."

Canale looked away for a minute, but didn't seem too surprised.

"She _tried_ to take it away, you mean," he replied. "You're here, aren't you?"

Maeve blushed. She placed her thumbs on his eyelids, which fluttered shut upon her touch.

"Open or closed, the scene is still the same," Canale chided.

"I know. I was trying you give you a black eye with the makeup on my finger," Maeve lied playfully.

"Thank you. I happen to find black eyes very fashionable," he teased.

Maeve laughed.

"In all seriousness though, I want to apologize to you. For leaving. For lying. For everything," Maeve said sincerely.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly," Canale responded, faking innocence.

She whacked him over the head with his own hat.

* * *

Sig:

Pie is good :)

Flour cakes are great :3

I like muffins too :D


	5. Placing A Bet (Short Story)

AU: Sorry for the short chapter. School is a lot of busy work, so updates won't be as often

* * *

"What the heck are you doing?" Canale groaned.

"It's just eyeshadow," Maeve laughed. "Hold still, or you'll mess it up."

Canale sighed but didn't move, closing his eyes.

"Why did I agree to this again?"

"Because I wanted to keep your hat," Maeve replied. "There, finished."

She gave Canale's face a quick once-over of her handiwork once he opened his eyes. Maeve had applied light blue eye shadow and orange glitter eyeliner to make Canale's eyes stand out.

"Hmm, not bad," she admitted. "You probably do look better than I would. You win the bet."

"You can have the hat," Canale huffed. "I'm going to take a shower."

And with that, he made his way to the restroom, one hand feeling along the wall. Maeve snickered and turned to put the makeup bag back where she had found it (in the drawer of a hotel desk), not looking at the door as it shut softly.

* * *

Sig:

Pie is good :)

Flour cakes are great :3

I like muffins too :D


	6. A New Revelation

AU: Someone asked me in a PM to make this chapter more angsty/drive a wedge between the two mains so here I go

* * *

Canale's pov

I had registered the sound of the door opening and closing, but I'd been too groggy to think much of it. It must've been close to midnight.

When I woke up again, there was still no noise in the hallways, telling me it was still early morning.

 _'Where did Maeve go?'_ I wondered, getting up and feeling for my clothes on the nightstand. After getting dressed, I grabbed my cane from its spot leaning against my bed and headed to the lobby.

######

As soon as I arrived in the lobby, I heard footsteps approaching me. Clacking heels.

"Hello sir, would you like my assistance?" came the voice of a girl. She sounded too young to be working at a hotel, around my age perhaps.

"Do you work here?"

"No, my father owns this hotel," the girl replied, voice smug.

"Have you seen another girl around my age come this way, by any chance?"

"Ah, yes. I have seen your companion. She was last seen at the bar, I believe," the girl responded sweetly. "I'm sure you don't want to disturb her. Why don't you walk around with me?"

"Thanks, but I'll pass. Can you please take me to the bar?"

"Of course."

She sounded disappointed, but I didn't want to worry about that now.

 _'Why in the world is Maeve at the bar...?'_

"What's your name?" the girl asked me, taking hold of my arm.

"Canale."

"I'm Sonia," she said brightly. "Feel free to ask around for me if you ever need to," she continued, her heels clicking against the marble. Sonia led me into a grape-smelling room, holding the door open. The noise, which had been absent before the door was even opened, erupted, filling my ears with loud music, the clinking of glasses, loud chatter, and shattering plates.

Before I could ask for help locating Maeve, Sonia whispered a quick goodbye in my ear and left.

I sighed and figured, _'If I keep walking, I'm bound to find a wall sometime, right?'_

It wasn't that easy, as was expected. People were everywhere. They staggered from left to right, completely drunken. After bumping into several half-conscious people, I felt my cane hit a solid surface.

With a newfound sense of comfort, I traced my fingers along the wall.

Inwardly, I wondered what would happen if Maeve wasn't conscious enough to come to me, even if she saw me. I shuddered at the thought.

"Pretty boy," one of the drunkards sneered. "Your girlfriend's over there."

I assumed he pointed somewhere.

"Oh wait," he laughed. "I guess you can't tell."

Right then, I began to realize just how badly my hands were shaking. I'd been claustrophobic ever since I'd been immersed in a world of darkness, but being in a bar was just about the limit of my claustrophobia. I could barely hear over all the noise, leaving only my sense of touch to guide me.

"Canale!"

Before I had time to react, Maeve had me pinned against the wall.

"What are you doing here?" she yelled into my ear. "It's four in the morning, you should've been sleeping!"

"Did you drink?" I asked suspiciously.

"No," Maeve laughed. "I just came here to...hang out."

There was definitely another reason, but I didn't want to push it.

"Let's go," Maeve told me, taking hold of my arm. "Don't be scared."

I guess I needed to hide my tensions better.

######

Maeve led me outside the hotel. There was a chill to the air. I could hear the frost crunching under my feet as I walked. Winter was here.

"We're going to Camp Half-Blood," she says quietly, stopping in her tracks.

I froze in horror.

"No. Please," I shook my head. "Anything but."

"Why not?" she pressed.

"They've never welcomed children of Hades...and especially not me. You know they all think I'm useless."

"Why do you care? Do _you_ think you're useless?"

I didn't answer.

"You do, don't you?"

I nodded slightly.

"How much have I helped you? With your dad's mission? With getting an audience with Hades? With anything?"

"More than enough," she replied, almost angry.

I guess I touched a nerve, although I didn't see why she would care about how I thought of myself.

"Do you not realize?" Maeve continued. "The only reason you think this is because that's what your mom told you. Well, maybe you should get over that. So you can't see anything. That shouldn't stop you from fulfilling your prophecy-"

Maeve seemed to realize she'd said too much. Which she kind of had.

"What prophecy?" the coldness of my voice surprised even me.

Maeve sighed.

"It's something about a sightless boy and either saving or destroying the world. I can't recite the whole thing because I don't remember it. No one does. The script it was written on was destroyed in a fire."

I closed my eyes, wishing I could just leave. Wishing I'd paid more attention to where we were so I'd be able to get back to the hotel.

"Don't worry about it," Maeve replied, slipping her hand into mine.

I snatched it away.

"They asked you to find me, didn't you?"

Maeve didn't respond. They definitely had.

"So what was all this then?" I asked softly. I wasn't angry anymore. I didn't know this feeling. Perhaps it was heartbreak. Yes, that's what it was. "This fake romance?"

"It wasn't all fake," Maeve said softly.

I sighed.

"I'll go to Camp with you. But leave me alone from now on, okay?"

She did as I asked. I hoped she looked back.

* * *

Sig:

Pie is good :)

Flour cakes are great :3

I like muffins too :D


End file.
